


(20. Tread) / Mind How You Go

by Mothfluff



Series: GO-ctober Prompts 2019 [20]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Blessings, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, Gen, M/M, October Prompt Challenge, One Word Prompts, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 20:51:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21125075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothfluff/pseuds/Mothfluff
Summary: My attempts at an October Challenge, using the original Inktober prompts for drabbles.(Each prompt will be posted as part of a series, not chapters, so I can add tags/characters/ratings/trigger warnings for each instead of the whole she-bang)Prompt 20 - TreadEvery common way to say good bye, every simple phrase to wish someone well on their journey, anything he could use to envelop what he was truly saying, Aziraphale used.A blessing in disguise. A simple saying, a commonly known thing, yet there was power behind the words, carefully placed so that Crowley could not see, could not tell what he was doing.He knew how the demon would react if he knew. Blessings were not for him, he believed, and in some way, he was right. He was a demon, after all. Not something to be blessed, to be protected with heavenly might.Not so to Aziraphale.





	(20. Tread) / Mind How You Go

“Mind how you go.” Aziraphale said as Crowley left the bookshop. It had become almost a ritual, a common phrase between the two. Without 'Mind how you go', Crowley had not really been dismissed properly. Without 'Mind how you go', he felt it was not yet time to leave. It was a small tinge, a feeling on the back of his head, and sometimes he wondered if he was imagining it. But then Aziraphale would look up at him, as he was waiting right in front of the door, would smile and say 'Mind how you go' with that look, the one that said he understood without saying anything. The one they'd shared a million times over the years.

'Mind how you go' was important.

He didn't know where it came from, really.

Aziraphale did.

“Safe travels.” It has been in the past, quite often, when it was still a normal thing to say. Aziraphale was glad it had travelled into modern use in some ways, so he could still cling to it without sounding suspicious. When Crowley was off to a longer tour, which had become rarer and rarer these days, as they spent them almost inseparable, 'safe travels' would travel with him as he went. He didn't know where the demon went most of the time, and sometimes he didn't find out even after he came back, but he knew he'd travel safely, and that's what counts.

“Take care.” Was a quick, simple one. It fit the modern times, and it fit in the past. It doesn't raise suspicions, almost camouflages as easy. Crowley had scoffed at it once or twice, remarked how it made Aziraphale sound like someone who's trying to hard to appear cool, or how it made it seem as if Crowley was a bumbling buffoon who couldn't watch out for himself as soon as he was left alone. Aziraphale had smiled at that, said nothing, except another 'Take care'.

“Fare thee well.” It was once, a longer time ago. Crowley had objected to the use of 'well', and that a demon was certainly not meant to 'fare' anything 'well', so to speak, but Aziraphale had calmed him down quickly. It was just the phrase, wasn't it, he didn't _mean_ for Crowley to do good. He just meant for him to 'fare thee well', and that's what he said. Crowley had grumbled and twitched every time he said it, but he hadn't stopped him anymore, so 'fare thee well' it was, for several decades, until it fell out of fashion.

“Until we meet again.” It had been a few times, even if it had sounded stilted. They'd assumed roles that fit it, though, roles of mortal enemies, of people who'd look forward to meeting again not for comfort, but rather to finally slay each other as they were meant to. 'Until we meet again' was a battle cry on the outside. Inside, it was a wish. It was a promise, that there wouldn't be another thousands of years until they did meet again.

“Tread carefully.” Was a rare one, said quietly, said with so much love it almost gave him away. He'd not used it for years, and he was glad of that. 'Tread carefully' was a warning, almost, that something was up, that he knew something was coming. Crowley did not like hearing 'Tread carefully', and not for the reasons he'd dismissed several other sayings. He knew what it meant, too, in some way, that Aziraphale was worried, and for a reason. He was indeed more careful after 'Tread carefully', and it had helped him out quite often. It had protected him from several ambushes, guarded him from being discovered, made him suspicious to the point of avoidance, and that had saved him more than once.

Every common way to say good bye, every simple phrase to wish someone well on their journey, anything he could use to envelop what he was truly saying, Aziraphale used.

A blessing in disguise. A simple saying, a commonly known thing, yet there was power behind the words, carefully placed so that Crowley could not see, could not tell what he was doing.

He knew how the demon would react if he knew. Blessings were not for him, he believed, and in some way, he was right. He was a demon, after all. Not something to be blessed, to be protected with heavenly might.

Not so to Aziraphale.

He stuffed the words with care, with love, with anything he could give to send him on his ways. Not knowing when he'd see him again, and in what state. Not knowing, sometimes, if he would see him again. Fearing he wouldn't.

A blessing was all he could give, and he gave plenty. 'Take care', 'be safe', 'mind how you go', and a little bit of light would go with Crowley, would make sure he was protected, make sure he'd travel back safely to Aziraphale, whenever that was.

A full blessing would've burnt him, but wrapped up like this, so very human in its words, it was nothing more than a feeling of warmth. Aziraphale could give him this, put just a bit of his angelic grace into it without anybody noticing, without getting in trouble.

And so he gave, plentiful.

“Mind how you go”, it had simply become in the recent years, the calm times. There was not much need for worry anymore, nor wishing for a quick return. He knew Crowley would be back soon, sooner than he could imagine sometimes. He knew they were safe, as safe as they could be given their troubled story. He knew that blessings were not so much needed anymore, and should maybe be avoided, in order to not show up on any radars. Yet, he couldn't resist. A little bit of care, a sprinkling of love as he said goodbye. It had become a habit almost, a reflex. Crowley leaving without a 'Mind how you go' made him restless, caused him to pick up the dreaded phone to check if he'd made it back to his flat safely.

The demon would've mocked him if he knew. For being a worry-wart and a troublemaker all at once. For wasting his blessings on him. For thinking a demon might need them, or want them. For thinking that fondly of him at all, that he'd want him safe, protected. It was better if he didn't know.

“I'll be out for a few hours. There's a seller in Twickenham with a rare signed Dickens.” Aziraphale put on his coat, gave Crowley a quick peck on the cheek. “I'll be back for dinner, don't worry.”

“I won't.” Crowley said glibly, his eyes focussed on the cellphone giving off horrible squeaky sounds as he played some game.

“See you then.” He said, turning around one last time at the door.

Crowley's head fell down the back of the chair he was sitting in, grinning at him from upside down, hair cascading over the wooden frame of the chair. A glint in his eyes.

“Mind how you go.”

A simple phrase. A mindless thing by now.

Aziraphale felt the warmth wash over him, filled with love and care and a little bit of worry. A blessing in disguise, even from a demon. Especially from his demon, who'd known all along.


End file.
